Life is No Accident
by Amara the Warrior
Summary: This is a Selphie/Irvine Pairing set in Post-Apocolyptic times. Selphie desperately wants to break free from her illness that will eventually turn her skin to stone. Mysterious forces are covering the world. She's going to have to be the hero once again.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello all…this is a Selphie/Irvine pairing. I am writing the pairing because people seem obsessed with who is with who in stories and I figured that this was the best way to go about it. For those who do not like this set up…you don't have to read this._

_This story is about Scleroderma: a rare autoimmune disorder where the body's immune system attacks a person's skin. Ouch, right? Try living with it! I was inspired to write this story after exploring the other autoimmune conditions (I have Fibro and Lupus)…so…now I am writing about this. I am going to try to put myself in another person's shoes. Let's see how well this turns out, eh?_

_The chapters are going to be short, because I get tired easily. But don't worry, there will be many of them._

**And also, I do not own Final Fantasy VIII. I just love to write stories with the characters from this awesome game. So please don't sue me! =P**

* * *

The smell of fumes polluted the air. I couldn't see well at all. Irvine and I were stuck in the car. We didn't get a chance to see who was hurt in the accident. And somehow…we didn't want to know.

"Selphie," he whispered to me, his azure eyes filled with fear. "What just happened?" I looked back to him, my emerald eyes glazed with tears.

"I think two people just got really hurt. Oh Irvy, this is horrible. Why did I have to see this? Not on this day, never on this day. I'm so unlucky!"

Today I had heard the worst news from my doctor. He told me I had Scleroderma: an autoimmune disease where the immune system becomes overactive and attacks the skin and other organ systems. I was crying as I heard the news, while Irvine bravely held my hand.

When I left, I had this horrible heaviness come upon me. It was like I was dying, or already dead. Scleroderma was such a rare disease…and the only thing they could do for me was slow the progression of the disease. Diffuse Scleroderma: one day my skin would become as hard as steel. I wasn't ready for that.

I had thought about killing myself, but that wasn't the right way to go about it. Sadly, I was going to have to be strong. I was strong. I knew what I was and who I was. I knew that I would have to be a self-sacrificing martyr because of that disease that ravaged my body.

And because of that, I decided I was going to be a hero. I got out of the car while Irvine tried to stop me. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "Are you crazy? You just got diagnosed with a lifelong and possibly fatal condition…and now you want to play hero? What the hell is wrong with you?"

I looked back at him and grinned. "I think I'm going crazy. But I don't care Irvy, I just want to be a hero…for one day."

I raced to the fire. The smoke filled my lungs and I coughed. Acid was rising into my throat. My lungs were painfully trying to give me oxygen. This was going to be a very difficult feat to perform.

"Come back!" Irvine screamed. "Are you crazy? You could get seriously hurt! Come back, I don't wanna lose you!"

I ignored him and knocked on the window of the car. I went in and pulled the body outside. I managed to dragged them back to my car before the burning vehicle exploded before my very eyes. With a glare on his face, Irvine ran over to me in hast. "You could have DIED!" He hissed.

"Yeah, I know," I explained. "But I saved someone's life…look!" I pointed to the survivor. It was a small girl with brown, messy hair. It seemed like she was the only survivor. I felt so sad about this.

_That girl is going to grow up all alone. I know how that feels but it still is sad that that is going to be her fate. Why couldn't I save her mom or father, if they were in the car…why did I save just her? Poor thing, she's unconscious; she needs to go to the hospital._

"What do we do now?" Irvine asked. "This girl needs serious medical help!"

"I know," snapped. "We need to get to the hospital, and QUICK!"

Irvine nodded. "That sounds like a good plan. Let's do it."

We picked up the body of the small girl and moved her into the car. We were afraid she wasn't going to make it. I begged Irvine to let me drive, but he insisted and told me that in my condition I shouldn't have been driving either. I carefully held the little girl in my arms in the back seat.

With sweating palms, I dialed 911. The cell phone rang a few times until someone finally picked up. "911, what's your emergency?"

The person on the other end seemed so calm. I was jealous of them for that. I was about ready to jump out of my skin.

I centered myself on the back seat by pressing my palm into the leather. "We just found a girl on the side of the highway," I explained. "She's a survivor of a major car crash. I couldn't see a lot of what was going on. It looked like a lot of the people involved died on impact. This is a rural road, so not many people have seen the car crash. I think Irvine and I were the only ones. We have the girl and we're taking her to the hospital. We'd like the paramedics to meet us there."

"Ma'am, you are so brave," she congratulated me. "May I ask why you are doing this?"

"I can't say," I answered. "I'm just going with my gut."

"Which hospital?" she asked.

"The general hospital in Timber," I explained. "It's very small but I think they could help the poor girl."

"We'll meet you there," the woman hung up.

I told Irvine to hurry and we made our way to the hospital.

I couldn't believe I was doing thing. I had never done anything like this before. Why? Why was I helping this girl? I didn't even know her? Why? What was wrong with me?

I had always been a helpful person, going out of my way to help people in need. But this, this was extraordinary. I knew what had pushed me to help the young girl; it was because of my Diffuse Scleroderma. I knew I didn't have a lot of time to do everything I wanted to do. So I decided to save this girl as my last fight back against this horrible disease.

I was crazy, wasn't I?

But I didn't have a lot of time for all of this. If I didn't think fast, I knew I would end up dead before I could do what I wanted.

I was being put on the clock, and I wasn't going to back down no matter what.

Warriors never surrendered. I knew that if I put my mind to it, I could win.

The hospital came into sight, I was so happy I started to cry. At least someone was going to get some help. Even if it wasn't me, I was happy the young girl was going to get some help.

I was so angry about my situation…but I was so glad the young girl was finally going to have someone to help her.

The emergency room was bright and had a horrid smell to it. It smelled like…blood…and suffering. I hated the ER for that very reason. Everyone was always bleeding and suffering. It would take hours before this girl was seen.

I went to the front desk. "Excuse me," I told the woman at the front desk, with her severe brown ponytail and green eyes. "There is a burn victim here. She survived a car crash. We found her and took her to the hospital. Can we please get some help?"

She rolled her eyes on her blatantly pale, square face. "Do you see the line of people there," she pointed out. "It's going to take a long time for this to happen. Is she in serious trouble?"

"She's having trouble breathing," I admitted, remembering the short and shallow breaths that kept coming from the girl.

The lady looked down at the ground and then up at me. "Okay, get her and we'll get her a bed."

We dragged the young girl into the bed.

"It'll be okay little girl," I soothed her. "It will always be okay."


	2. Chapter Two

The hospital looked cold and unforgiving from the inside. The poor little girl was hooked up to a ventilator and for some reason, had her eyes open. She stared at me, trying to figure out who I really was. I don't think she knew I was her savior.

The doctor came and checked on her. He looked at us with tired, sunken eyes. I felt sorry for him. Those doctors never slept, even when they had to. I knew the poor man needed a break. "Who are you?" he asked professionally. "Are you the girl's parents?"

I shook my head. "No, we found her and pulled her from the wreck."

"Mmmhmm," he wrote down some notes on his clipboard. I hated the "mmmhmm" sound of the doctor. It was as if I were a lab rat or something!

I had gotten that same sound when I was diagnosed with Scleroderma. It was a hard thing to hear. I felt so far away. And I felt so angry…

I wanted to fly away far from there and disappear forever.

"Any particular reason why you saved her?" he asked.

I shrugged. "She needed my help, so I helped her. There doesn't always need to be a reason to be a good person and to help others!"

"I see…do you know her name?"

"No, she was unconscious when we found her and we didn't have a chance to check for her name…sorry I can't be of much help to you."

"What about her parents?"

"They died in the fire?"

"Fire?"

"The car was on fire when we found her."

We were told to wait in the lobby. After ten minutes or so, we were told to go home. Go home? I couldn't do that! That little girl needed my help!

She looked so helpless in that bed, with her sunken eyes, charred skin, and scared eyes. She was covered with dried blood. The poor thing, her scars were probably never going to heal.

Those burn marks were going to leave a permanent scar, and people were going to notice those very scars and judge her for them. Just like me with Scleroderma. People were going to see my hardened skin, the oozing sores, and my purple hands. When they did see those horrible things, they were going to judge me as a freak.

I wasn't ready for that; I wasn't ready to be judged as a freak. I was angry about the diagnosis and angry about the horrible things that were going to come after diagnosis.

I had an answer, but at what price? Judgment was harsh, always… I was going to be eaten alive.

And the girl was going to grow up thinking she was a freak. I was 20; I had lived my whole life as normally as possible. The girl wouldn't know what *normal* was. However, was there such a thing as *normal*?

No, there wasn't such a thing as normal…at least I didn't think there was. I always believed that everyone was who they were. There was no normal; people created normal within their own realities.

But that wouldn't stop the hurtful remarks. How was I going to deal with that? I wasn't that strong; I couldn't deal with all those "eww" or "What's Wrong with you?" and everything that came with a rare disease.

Scleroderma was so rare, and that was the hardest part of the disease. Anything that was rare was ridiculed, *unbelievable*, or *just a person being lazy*.

Those people didn't know that you couldn't fake inflammation, hardened skin, or oozing sores at the tips of your fingers. That just wasn't possible.

Autoimmune seemed to equal *out of this world*! I had never experienced anything so uncanny as Scleroderma. I still didn't understand it. And I could die, which scared the shit out of me.

That was okay, because Scleroderma caused some serious shit to happen.


End file.
